Page 44 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

"Yeah," Mikhail said, his eyes flicking between Nikita and me, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I found something. Something you're both going to want to hear."

Nikita's jaw tightened, and I felt my heart start to race. The air in the room seemed to thicken as Mikhail stepped forward, his usual calm replaced by something darker, more urgent.

"What is it?" Nikita asked, his voice low.

Mikhail glanced at me, then back at Nikita. "I've been digging into Alexei's death. Trying to figure out why everything happened the way it did. And I found something… unexpected."

My throat tightened, and I took a step closer, the tension in the room suffocating. Mikhail had been loyal to Nikita for years. He was a man who never wavered, never hesitated. If he was unsettled, then whatever he had found was big.

"Go on," Nikita demanded, his eyes narrowing.

Mikhail took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to me. "It wasn't Alexei," he said slowly, carefully. "Not the way you think. He wasn't acting on his own."

I blinked, confusion clouding my thoughts. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice shaky.

Mikhail's eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time, I saw something close to sympathy in his gaze. "Your father, Lily," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of the truth. "He's the one who orchestrated everything."

The room went silent.

I stared at him, the words not fully sinking in. My father? My father had been behind it all?

"That's impossible," I whispered, shaking my head. "He was a businessman. He had nothing to do with Alexei's death."

Mikhail's expression hardened, and he stepped closer, his gaze steady. "Your father wasn't just a businessman, Lily. He has deep ties to the criminal world, far deeper than anyone knows. He was the one who called the hit on Nikita. He used Alexei as a pawn."

My stomach churned, the ground beneath me seeming to tilt. I felt like I couldn't breathe, like the walls were closing in on me. My father—my father, who I'd barely known, who I'd thought of as distant and cold but never dangerous—had orchestrated this?

"How… how do you know this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mikhail glanced at Nikita, who was standing rigid, his fists clenched at his sides. "I started looking into the financials," Mikhail explained, his voice steady but grim. "Your father was moving large sums of money in the months leading up to Alexei's death. Some of it went to an arms deal that was directly tied to Nikita's operations. I didn't think much of it at first, but then I started following the money. It led me to some of your father's old contacts, people who knew more than they should have."

He paused, his gaze hardening. "That's when I realized your father had been manipulating things from behind the scenes for years. He had ties to several criminal families, and he wasn't just protecting his business—he was protecting his empire. Alexei wasn't an opportunistic traitor. He was following orders. From your father."

My legs felt weak, and I stumbled back, gripping the edge of the window ledge to steady myself. The room felt like it was spinning, and I couldn't catch my breath.

Nikita's voice cut through the haze of my thoughts, sharp and dangerous. "You're telling me her father was the one who started all of this? That he's the reason Alexei turned against me?"

Mikhail nodded grimly. "Yes. Her father lied to Alexei about your business. He convinced him that you were a threat, that you were involved in deals that would destroy them both. And Alexei—he believed him. He thought he was protecting Lily. That's why he turned."

My heart raced, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place, each one more devastating than the last. Alexei had never betrayed anyone—he had been manipulated, just like I had been. All these years, I had blamed Nikita for Alexei's death, when it had been my own father pulling the strings from the shadows.

"I don't… I don't understand," I stammered, my voice cracking. "Why would my father do this? Why would he?—"

"He was protecting himself," Mikhail interrupted, his voice cold. "Your father was running operations that would've crumbled if Nikita's business expanded the way he planned. He needed to get rid of Nikita, but he couldn't do it directly. So he used Alexei. And when Alexei failed, he let him take the fall."

The room went silent again, the weight of the truth pressing down on me like a lead weight. My father had orchestrated the murder of my husband, manipulated me into seeking revenge, and all for his own gain.

I had been blind. So blind.

Nikita's eyes burned into mine, his fury palpable. "So this whole time," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, "you've been coming after me because your father wanted me dead?"

I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. The truth was too much—too overwhelming, too devastating. I had spent years chasing revenge, consumed by grief and anger, and now it all felt like a lie.

Everything I thought I knew had been turned upside down in an instant.

Nikita's words hung in the air, each one slicing into me like a knife. I could feel his fury radiating from him, sharp and unforgiving, and I couldn't blame him. How could I? The truth was worse than any betrayal I could have imagined. The rage I'd carried for so long, the blame I'd placed on him, had been based on nothing but lies.

I had been a pawn in my father's twisted game, and I hadn't even known it.

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